Monthly Archives: June 2013

I like Shakespeare. I always have. I know there are some who think he’s stuffy, pretentious, and the single leading cause of boredom among high school students. But I’ve just always liked him. I once played a witch in my school’s grade nine production of MacBeth (I’m not altogether certain what the fillet of a fenny snake is, nor what use eye of newt and toe of frog are for, but apparently it’s important for witchy things). I understood every word of Othello. I love writing a parody script of Twelfth Night. Had I not ended up in communications, I would have made an excellent English major and subsequent long-term barista/waitress.

I don’t really know how else one is supposed to begin discussing an adaptation of something, particularly when that something has already been adapted countless times over the years. In the case of Much Ado About Nothing, I thought Kenneth Branagh’s version hit the nail on the head. It was clever, well cast (with the exception of Keanu Reeves—not even high school students deserve to listen to his mechanically delivered lines for two and a half hours), and true to the source material. Whenever I think of how much I like Much Ado About Nothing, that’s the benchmark for me.

Thom: The superhero concept has been around since 1938 and the debut of Superman in Action Comics #1. Superheroes have been with us long enough that, for a lot of people, they form a modern mythology more appealing than established faiths, a rich tapestry of stories instrumental in forming a set of core beliefs. Certainly for me, superheroes have been incredibly important and meaningful, and their stories have helped to inform who I am and most of everything I do. Of course, I would never claim that I regularly act heroically in any significant parts of my daily life, but every time I help someone out when I don’t need to, every small kindness, every moment of compassion comes from my view that good is its own reward and that we owe it to everyone to do right by them. And for me, most of those sensibilities came from reading comicbooks. If I was going to offer a theory on why superheroes endure in society and why, for many, they maintain fan followings into adulthood more so than many of the other elements of our childhoods, I would like to think it’s because they teach us about truth and justice in an unbreakable, intractable way; they help us to become the great people we can be and wish to be by giving us the light to show us the way. And in a world where religions destroy civilizations, where the Bible Belt won’t let go of its guns, and where priests are more associated with molestation than divinity, they do it in a way that we can actually be proud of.

Green Lantern. Its mere mention is enough to send shivers down the spines of comic book fans and moviegoers alike. And it’s probably the reason we haven’t heard as much from Ryan Reynolds lately (R.I.P.D. not withstanding).

For my part… I didn’t hate Green Lantern. On the plus side, Ryan Reynolds and Mark Strong were strong choices as Hal Jordan and Sinestro (spoiler alert Sinestro is sinister) and the basic plot was serviceable. On the minus side, none of the characters were all that likable, the villains were either pathetic, uncompelling or poorly defined, the movie failed to capitalize on all the weird-looking aliens the way a lot of the marketing seemed to be going for, and I really just think the Green Lantern power set — which is basically a magic wishing ring — doesn’t translate that well to the screen. You just don’t get that visceral thrill of people hitting each other (giant, green energy fists don’t count). And Blake Lively was just awful.

“A philosopher once asked, ‘Are we human because we gaze at the stars, or do we gaze at the stars because we are human?’ Pointless, really. Do the stars gaze back? Now that’s a question.”

I like fairy tales. I always have, and I’m not ashamed of it. I try to make a point of seeing all the new Disney movies in theatres, and I’ve done that ever since I first saw Pocahontas, and wow, does that ever make me feel old (even though I’m really not). I have a leather-bound book of fairy tales by my bed, I watch Once Upon A Time even though it’s not even that fantastic a show anymore, and I once appeared as the Wardrobe in my high school’s production of Beauty and the Beast. I like fairy tales, and I don’t expect that to change anytime soon.